


Fred Weasley / Gryffindor Reader (Follow You Anywhere)

by musicalcrimescene



Series: George/Fred Weasley Short Stories [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Quidditch, snogging in stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalcrimescene/pseuds/musicalcrimescene
Summary: When the two of you finally reach the quidditch pitch, half the group is already in the air, flying around. You remove your arm from around Fred’s as you reach the group, pulling away to head to the stands. You wave at him before turning around, heading towards the stairs up. You’re not quite out of hearing range, though, when you hear the group address Fred.“Thomas is with you, eh? Nothing has changed, then.” You hear some chuckles before Fred replies.“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t she come?”
Relationships: Fred Weasley & Reader, Fred Weasley/Reader
Series: George/Fred Weasley Short Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012857
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	Fred Weasley / Gryffindor Reader (Follow You Anywhere)

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe one day this will be edited... maybe not. Until then, my apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> Also, whenever I'm writing the twins I always imagine them with their shorter hair and I don't know why.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy!

You’re lying on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, head leaning on a pillow propped against one end, your feet resting in Fred Weasley’s lap. His own feet were propped on the table in front of you, and for once it was peaceful with a twin in the vicinity. You were reading another book of yours, one your mother had owled you the other day. Across from you, Fred rested a book with parchment on top of your shins, scribbling out new product ideas for their future joke shop. Neville and Seamus had brought down their record player from their dorm and were playing soft rock, allowing the room to settle into a peaceful calm.

It was a Saturday, and most of the house was taking this rare reprieve from work and excitement to relax and enjoy the slight breeze coming in from the open windows. You flip another page of your book and shift your leg ever so slightly, trying to get it in a more comfortable position. The wiggling disrupts Fred’s writing apparently, and he takes his free hand to clasp down on your shin, giving you a warning glance. You silently laugh and keep your leg still. He smiles back, and for a moment you enjoy the silent pleasure of each other’s smiling company.

Silence, of course, never lasts in the House of Gryffindor. The portrait swung open, and in came in a flood of noise. Fred and Lee Jordan were the first to step through the entrance, followed by Ron, Harry, Oliver Wood, Aneglina, and some of their other quidditch friends. As soon as he spots the two of you on the couch, Fred walks over to where you’re lounging.

“Freddie! Thomas! What are you doing here lazing about? The weather outside is incredible, if you hadn’t noticed.” You look up and smile at him, not yet closing your book.

“Yes, the breeze does feel lovely. But if you hadn’t noticed, it was quite peaceful in here until you lot barged in.” He laughs and squats down in front of you.

“We got your attention didn’t we?” He gives you a wink. “We were looking for dear Freddie, actually. We’re about to play a bit of quidditch and need our second best beater out there with us.” 

Fred gives him a look. “Second best? I thought you already agreed to play.” George stands and steps closer to him, rubbing his knuckles against the top of Fred’s head.

“Looks like I need to teach you what’s what. So, what do you say, Fred? Up for a match?” Fred looks over at you raising an eyebrow. You shrug and smile before pulling your feet away, leaning down to slip your shoes back on. You hear him respond to his brother.

“Yeah, Georgie, we’ll be down there in a jiffy. Go and get my broom for me, would you?” George pauses, looking between the two of you before shrugging and heading back to the group.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Just make sure you two don’t take too long.” As the group heads back out of the common room and presumably down to the pitch, you close your book and shove it in your bag, waiting for Fred to do the same. Once his shoes are back on, he looks over to you and jerks his head toward the portrait. You follow behind him out of the common room and down the hall.

“You sure you don’t mind if we go out? Knowing Wood, he’s probably going to turn it into some sort of training session and everyone will wanna quit then.” You laugh and loop your arm through his.

“Of course not. George’s right, it is nice out. Besides, you know I like reading in the stands.” He looks down at you and quirks an eyebrow.

“Read, huh? That’s what you pretend to do, I’m sure. We both know you’re not so secretly watching me the whole time.” He gives you a wink and you laugh. You and Fred are best friends, having been since first year. You were close with George too, of course, but it was different with Fred. He was more of an instigator than his brother who preferred to go along with whatever Fred had planned. George was more outwardly caring, of course, but Fred showed that he cared in other, more subtle ways. You were drawn to him and while you weren’t that close your first few years at Hogwarts, you couldn’t help but grow closer and become best friends in fifth year. 

Now, a year later, you two remained the best of friends and did nearly everything together. Most of the time George was with you as well, as no one could be as close with Fred as George is. Still, you were a trio and wherever they went, you went and vice versa. 

Recently, though, it’s been different. You’re not sure how or why the dynamic has changed between the three of you, but more often than not it’s been just you and Fred. It started with the twins having private conversations you weren’t privy to. That was unusual for them; usually they never hide anything from you. You decided that it was none of your business, however; best friend or not, they were brothers and twins and were entitled to privacy.

After the conversation ended, however, George started hanging around less. He was still there for meals and pranks and such, but days like today when there were no classes or events to attend, it was more often than not Fred alone by your side. You didn’t think much of it until he even failed to join you for a Hogsmeade weekend. You were waiting for the twins by the front gate, but only Fred had shown up. He was wearing his usual corduroys and jumper with the pom-pom hat on his head, but he seemed off. He smelled much nicer than usual, not that he didn’t usually have a nice scent, and he looked a bit more put together. When he said George wasn’t coming and consequently winced at your disappointment, he carried you off to a carriage anyway.

The day at Hogsmeade with Fred was lovely, of course it was. He’s your best friend. But that was a month and half ago. It was now spring, and George’s strange behavior continued still. It’s become normal for you and Fred to spend time alone together, but you’re more curious than ever as to what catalyzed this change.

When the two of you finally reach the quidditch pitch, half the group is already in the air, flying around. You remove your arm from around Fred’s as you reach the group, pulling away to head to the stands. You wave at him before turning around, heading towards the stairs up. You’re not quite out of hearing range, though, when you hear the group address Fred.

“Thomas is with you, eh? Nothing has changed, then.” You hear some chuckles before Fred replies.

“Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t she come?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you still haven’t taken advantage of George’s oh so kind gift of time alone…” You scrunch your eyebrows together. You have no idea what they’re talking about, and for once you feel nosy. It involves you, after all, as well as George’s recent distance. 

Deciding now isn’t the time to pry, you climb up the stairs until you reach the stands, finding a nice seat and opening your book. For a while you really do try to read, but Fred was right, as usual. Whenever you come and watch them play and mess around like this, you more often than not end up watching. It’s not that you want to join them; you really have no desire to be any bit involved with quidditch. You simply enjoy watching the sport, especially when it’s your friends who are playing. 

More recently, your eyes have been focused more on Fred than anyone. Despite your usual ability to differentiate the twins, it was quite difficult to tell them apart when they were whizzing by on brooms with no jersey numbers on their backs. When you had told Fred this almost a year ago, he took to tying a bright blue ribbon on his broom, right where the handle meets the bristles. You don’t know why, but knowing he did that for you, so you could tell which player as him, made you feel warm and had your stomach doing flips.

You’re not stupid. You know what that means, you just aren’t quite ready to face it. Fred is your best friend, and to throw romantic attraction in there would no doubt complicate things. This was especially true when George was always around with you guys, but along with his recent absence, you’ve found yourself imagining what it might be like if you and Fred ever became more. If you were allowed to hold his hand, touch his face, be as close as you pleased. If you could kiss him whenever the urge struck you, and he could do the same thing to you. 

You flushed at the thought. Those thoughts often led to other, more intense thoughts, and you certainly weren’t about to fantasize about you and Fred shagging while out in the quidditch stands among all your friends.

Shaking your head a bit, you turn back to your book, trying to focus. It doesn’t work all that well, as you still sneak glances up at Fred and his ribbon-tied broom. He really is attractive flying around, swinging his beater bat and inadvertently showing off the muscles he’s gained over the years. Quite fit indeed…

You try to stop drooling when you realize they’re all taking a break and he’s currently flying towards you. He touches down in the stands, walking up to you and taking a lower seat on the bench in front of you. Still, he remains at eye level and you frown.

Smirking, he says “Short as ever, I see. Got any food in that bag of yours?” He starts digging through without waiting for your permission, and you roll your eyes. 

“There’s a chocolate frog in the bottom to the left. Put it in there this morning in case you decided your breakfast for three wasn’t filling enough.” He’s already tearing into the packaging when you finish, and he grins up at you.

“You’re the best, Thomas, as always. I’d starve without you.” You roll your eyes again and smile down at him. 

“Yeah, yeah, just save me a bit, would you?” He freezes, frog halfway in his mouth. He blinks up at you before finishing his bite and then holding it out to you.

With his mouth still full, he asks, “Wanna bite?” You give him an exasperated look, but decide to take a bite anyway. Leaning forward, frog still in his hand, you take a quick bite. As you do so, your lip brushes against one of his fingers holding the chocolate. Pulling back, you look over at him as you chew. His cheeks are bright red as he stares at the frog in his hand where your mouth just was. Swallowing, you blush a bit as you realize how strangely intimate that felt. 

He clears his throat after a moment and looks down, taking another bite right where you had just taken a bit of the chocolate. You smirk down at him. Weird guy.

Your silence is disrupted when Lee Jordan, still on his broom with Wood and George, shouts over, “C’mon Fred! It’s been long enough.”

You look up at the boys on their brooms. “Is your break over? You should probably get back. Don’t worry, I won’t eat the rest of your snack.” You smirk down at him, but frown when his face is a brighter red than before and he’s fidgeting with his fingers.

“No,” he says, looking up at you. “That’s not what he meant…” He looks away and runs his free hand through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck.

You cock your side to the side. “Then… what did he mean?”

Fred squeezes his eyes shut before taking a deep breath. Suddenly he’s staring up at you, an intensity in his eyes that you haven’t seen before.

“Can I just…” he stumbles. “Can I try something?” You furrow your brows but nod anyway. You trust Fred implicitly, but he’s off right now.

“Ok,” he breaths out. He looks nervous and flickers his eyes back and forth between the chocolate frog and you. “Ok, then close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say it’s ok.”

You silently nod and close your eyes, anxious for whatever he’s about to do. Nothing happens for a few seconds, but slowly you feel a presence in front of you as he leans in closer. You feel something cold and smooth against your lips, and as you open your mouth you realize it’s a small piece of chocolate. You smile, lightly biting it as you take it into your mouth. As you do so, your lips touch something else and you find two of Fred’s fingers that are holding the chocolate up. Your mouth closes around them ever so slightly, but you can still hear the hitch in his Fred breathing.

You flick your tongue out, running it along your lip to get the last of the chocolate, and slightly lick his fingers in the process. You imagine this should be incredibly strange, but instead it just feels… intimate and soft. His now shaking fingers leave your mouth and you take the opportunity to whisper his name.

“Fred,” you let out. All you hear in response in a quick intake of breath before his presence is suddenly much closer to you. Before you can react, his hand is on the back of your neck and his mouth is pressed firmly against yours. You choke on the chocolate a little, but it’s melted enough that you can swallow it. 

For a moment he doesn’t move and neither do you. After a few seconds, though, you get impatient and tilt your head, opening your mouth slightly as you push back into his mouth. He lets out a startled noise and you huff a bit of hair out of your nose in a laugh. He gets the memo after that and starts moving his mouth along with yours. The butterflies in your stomach are going wild and you can’t control the rapid beating of your heart, but you don’t think you want to anyway.

Fred’s lips are rough and chapped from the wind and flying, but as his tongue comes out to wet them you find that you don’t mind in the least. Your hands grip either side of his face, and as you pull back you lean your forehead against his, giggling with your eyes still closed. Eventually you open them to find Fred staring at you, chuckling back in disbelief.

“What was that?” You ask. He leans in to touch his nose to yours.

“That was affection, Miss Thomas. Surely you know of it.” You laugh and smirk a little at him.

“Oh, of course,” you say. “I just never imagined Fred Weasley would ever give me such affection.” He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Oh? And tell me, what did you imagine?” You have no response to this. Going back to your previous thoughts, the ones you deemed too inappropriate for the quidditch stands, your face turns hot with embarrassment. He notices this and pulls back so he can take in your face, surprise and not-so-innocent joy on his own face.

“Bloody hell, Thomas! Who knew you had a mind like that. A dirty girl, you are.” You flush even more at his comment and wack at his chest before covering your face in your hands.

“I’m not,” you protest. “I didn’t mean… I don’t think… I’ve never actually- I mean, yes, but-” You stop short at Fred’s laugh, loud and amused. You smile sarcastically at him and roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It’s not like you’ve never had thoughts like that. You’re even worse than I am.” When he manages to calm his laughter, he leans in closer to you, giving you a look that you can only describe as a wanting smolder. You never thought he’d be able to pull off something like that without looking ridiculous, but… bloody hell did he not look ridiculous.

“Oh, trust me,” he says. “We’ll have plenty of time to go over what I’ve imagined” At this his eyes flick down to the rest of you before meeting your gaze again. You blush even brighter at the small glance; that’s all it took for him to have you melting.

He pulls back and looks over his shoulder. For the first time, you’re aware of the whooping and whistling going on from the pitch. George is the loudest of them all, of course, and you can’t help but flush at the thought of them having seen you and Fred snogging.

Groaning, you cover your face in your hands and lean down, pressing your head into the crook of Fred’s shoulder. Despite his blaise confidence just a moment ago, he lets out a pleased but surprised whimper at the touch and you can feel his face heating up. You laugh lightly as, trying not to move, he looks back at your audience and yells at them all to sod off, game’s over. Despite the resounding boos, the noise quiets down as you assume the others fly back down to join the rest on the ground.

Wrapping his arms around you, Fred rests his chin on your head in a hug. “As much as I love this,” he says, “and I really do, trust me… what do you say to sneaking off back to the castle and finding a cozy place to snog?”

You lift your head up and laugh, pushing him away. “Boys really do have one-track minds, don’t they?” You smile lovingly at him anyway, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. He closes his eyes in pleasure, smiling, but quickly opens them again and winks at you.

“Not at all, love. In fact, my mind is capable of many thoughts when it comes to you and me and a space all to ourselves.” You gasp and punch his shoulder, standing and gathering your things back in your bag.

“Fred Weasley, you are a menace.” You start walking away towards the stands as he protests behind you.

“No, wait, I’m sorry! I’m a polite bloke, really, the only thing on my mind is chivalry and-” You turn around and interrupt him with what you hope is a wicked smile.

“Am I going to have to shut you up here, or would you rather find that empty classroom you were talking about?” He freezes mid sentence before throwing a blinding grin your way, rushing to catch up. Soon he’s the one tugging you along down the stairs and towards the castle.

“Well come on, now, that classroom won’t find itself.” You laugh as you allow yourself to be tugged along.

Needless to say, the two of you show up late with flushed faces to dinner.


End file.
